Word Walkers: Stolen Secret

By Amelia C. M. Moseley

For centuries, when calamity has approached the Mortal World, a World Walker has appeared to prevent disaster from destroying, well, everything. The problem for Diana Silverwell is that a World Walker has appeared in front of her and neither of them knows what that means. With only a rumor to lead them forward, Diana and Kan’sa must discov

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amelia C. Moseley
• Release date: May 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9781733582629

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Copyright © 2019 by Amelia C. Moseley

The right of Amelia C. Moseley to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright Act of 1976.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real people, alive or dead, is purely coincidental.

Edited by Danielle Rich & Bobbie Jo Reid

Map by Taegen J. Murphy

ISBN 978-1-7335826-2-9

Book 1:

Stolen Secret

By Amelia C. M. Moseley

For Mrs. Wanda Wilds.

I would never have gotten here without you pushing me forward.

Thank you.

Prologue

Where is Dau’fi?

The thought fleeted quickly as the fighter moved to parry the blow aimed at her. She blocked, letting the blade grind across hers before moving to counter. Gravel skidded under her foot as she moved into the next move in the fight. Another parry, another swing, another dodge. A routine warm-up, one that pulled on every muscle and memory in her.

Along the sides of the training arena knelt a handful of other figures. Long, slender ears twitched, tilting to and fro at even the smallest sounds. They watched the fighters, comments held until the end of

the match. As she skirted her opponent's attack, she did her best to ignore them. Yet she found their expressions important. Notes of approval or distain, silent bets on the scene before them.

Another swing plunged her attention back into the fight. Sweep, dodge, thrust, counter. She buried herself in her actions, concentrating with renewed determination. She became so focused on the clash of metal, the flow of battle, the rhythm of their dance, that all else melted away. Even the sounds of the garden around them faded away, birdsong a distant whisper.

Until one voice cut through the din.

Kan’sa.

The female Hantheer blinked, her deer-like ears swiveling toward the speaker. Both her and her opponent bowed, the match over at the entrance of their master. As Kan’sa’s partner joined the others on the edge of the field, she smiled at the voice’s owner, Master Dau’fi. It was only as she approached her master that she realized what he had said. She looked up, her eyes connecting with her elder, unable to hide the brief flash of surprise in her reddish-brown eyes. Kan’sa.

Master Dau’fi smiled in return, but Kan’sa saw the crease in his brow, the pain on his lips, the pride in his eyes. She pressed her lips together, guessing what he was about to say, but stopping herself from interrupting him. Master Dau’fi swallowed, hiding his emotions quickly for his following announcement: Kan’sa, the Speaker has chosen you as their World Walker.

Those words. Those were the words Kan’sa had been training her whole life to hear. There were very few Hantheer chosen to be trained for the position, but even fewer were chosen to actually take up the mantle of World Walker. The title came with its own horrible weight, its own heavy responsibility. Peace often came at a high price, a price the World Walker would need to bear alone with no help from their home or deity. That she would have to bear alone.

What darkness is approaching the Speaker’s mortal world? Kan’sa asked, stepping beside her master as he motioned for her. As she did, she saw her companions rise, all bowing to her with a new kind of respect. It was a formal gesture, one that some of the younger Hantheer in the audience didn’t quite grasp. Kan’sa tucked away thoughts of leaving her peers behind as she and Dau’fi walked away from the arena and over the wooden walkway toward the heart of their city.

You should know by now that we know nothing about what approaches, only that it comes, Master Dau’fi answered. He turned his head, concentrating on the walkway ahead of them. His mentorship had been more than a student-teacher relationship for them both. They had had centuries together, now to be torn apart for Speaker knew how long. Dau’fi had been many things for Kan’sa. Part of her worried about being in the mortal world without his guidance, but now was not the time for fear. She was chosen. She could not let her people believe she would fail.

Kan’sa set her hand on her mentor’s shoulder, resolved in her mask. There is no one who could have prepared me better for this life, Master. I will conquer whatever is troubling these lands.

Master Dau’fi pressed his hand against hers and nodded. Come, there is much to discuss and little time before you go.

The two walked side-by-side through the open-air halls of Fahla’surni, home of the Hantheer, talking softly about Kan’sa’s responsibilities, but not the task itself. They walked on the wooden bridges raised over the many gardens and training arenas around Kan’sa’s home, through the spiderweb of businesses laced between stone gardens and parks. At the sight of the two, others stepped aside. It didn’t take long for the city to start chatting about the newly chosen World Walker; the gossip spilled over the bridges running parallel to Kan’sa and Dau’fi. Crowds began to gather, bowing to Kan’sa. She waved meekly, trying to stow her emotions. She was to be a leader, to bring peace to another world. She wouldn’t leave her people worrying whether she would succeed.

Master Dau’fi led Kan’sa to a platform that overlooked the city. Trees mingled with wooden buildings. The bridges and buildings came together

like beads on a great woven tapestry, the gardens filling the squares between. Mist still clung to the rooftops as the morning was chased away by the sun. The Speaker will guide you through all things. Remember your training, all that you have learned. Do not fear to ask for aid, but do not allow fear of the unknown guide you. We are a blessed race, but we are not perfect. Or immortal. But we are still a symbol. And now you are their symbol. You cannot let them believe you think this evil will stop you.

Whether he meant her own people or the mortals she was being sent to save, she didn’t know. Kan’sa nodded. I will remember all of this.

The elder Hantheer tried to laugh, but the noise was caught in his throat. He turned toward Kan’sa. "Your companion is being told. Kil’thian will follow you shortly when you call for him.

As your master, I am supposed to provide you a gift. Traditionally a weapon is given, but I have elected for something else. In hopes that you will go to bring peace, not war. Perhaps an end to this cycle. I give this small bit of knowledge around our rules that it may aid you in a quest where your people nor your divine may answer you.

He clasped Kan’sa’s hands as the mist began to rise, moving from where it rested, and began swirling before them on their platform to form a crack between worlds. Find Vinhir. Find the war that happened there over a week.

Kan’sa pondered the statement as the portal ripped open behind her. Master, I don’t—

Master Dau’fi folded his arms and stepped away. He could aid her no more, such were the laws of the World Walker. Beyond help of her people, beyond true answers from her deity. Only she could discover her path forward now. Kan’sa bowed in respect to her mentor. His expression was beginning to falter, but Kan’sa wouldn’t allow him to suffer through more farewells. She turned toward the portal. It was as if the world had been ripped in two. Tendrils of nowhereness lashed out as the world fought to put itself back together. What was beyond the rift was incomprehensible, appearing as little more than a blinding mist.

For a moment, Kan’sa looked back. She frowned at herself at this confession of weakness, but she tore herself from the spot. She rushed to her master’s side, grasping him in a tight embrace. I cannot lie, Master, I am afraid.

Dau’fi ran a hand through her hair. She felt hot tears on her face, both her own and her friend’s. She heard him reciting the Speaker’s word and smiled. Fear not, my child. For I am the way and the truth. I will always guide you, even when you cannot understand my path. Know me and you will never fail.

Kan’sa pushed back, her arms still tangled with Dau’fi’s. His own mask had fallen, a small, bittersweet smile on his face. But his lips remained pressed together. He had said too much. Kan’sa could see pleading in his eyes, begging their deity to let him comfort her further, but Dau’fi remained silent.

Heavy-hearted, Kan’sa stepped back. She blinked once, the tears falling away from her face. Then, she passed through the tear in the world before it righted reality behind her.

Her skin prickled. She felt her flesh turn to mist and then back to flesh and then to mist again, over and over as she passed through the barriers that separated worlds. She closed her eyes as the transformations became blinding and unreality undid reality and then doubled back upon itself.

And then, it stopped. She felt whole again. Kan’sa blinked her eyes open, looking up to see the sun and the dark woods that surrounded her. She thanked the Speaker that the mist had stung her whole skin, turning it all a prickled red and hiding her tears.

Her ears swiveled forward, sent toward a new speaker.

What the hell just happened?

Kan’sa looked down, her head spinning a little at the sharp movement. She hadn’t adjusted yet. She studied the speaker for a moment as her head corrected itself. A dwarf woman stood before her, the shock on her face plain to see. The poor woman was almost white, though, for an individual of a primarily subterranean race, that didn’t seem like a hard feat. Around them were a dozen scorch marks on stones and trees littering the glade.

To Vinhir then, Kan’sa thought. Keeping her face masked, she spoke, Greetings. My name is Kan’sa of Fahla’surni, and I am the World Walker. Would you like to go on an adventure?

Silence.

Kan’sa coughed, her fist covering her lips. She offered again. I come on a quest of great importance for this world.

Still nothing.

It’s a holy quest, and I am in need of aid.

Finally, the dwarf began to move. She furrowed her brow, shaking her head. Kan’sa smiled as the conversation was going to start making progress. Kan’sa opened her mouth to explain further, but the dwarf spoke first:

What the fuck?

Chapter 1

The Hart Wants What the Hart Wants

Diana shrugged her pack onto her shoulders. They were in the middle of nowhere, but she didn’t really have a right to complain. She signed up for this, however stupid the idea was. She’d taken her strange new companion’s proposition without hesitation or further questions. Not that she was fond of staying where she was. Dane was a miserable town. She’d been waiting years for a reason to put it behind her.

Kan’sa took long, even strides in front of her. Everything about the woman screamed power and grace. And tall, taller than any mortal race Diana knew. Long strands of tawny hair bounced against her back, sheltering a lean, freckled face and black doe’s nose. Soft